Stormy Weather
by Awahili
Summary: Temperance Brennan was not having a good day. And it had only just begun. Can anything make it better? BB friendship and more, from both perspectives.


This is a quick little vignette that I literally thought about in my sleep. I woke up at like three and went, that's a good story, and apparently told myself to remember it. So here it is. Now I have to go make dinner.

* * *

Temperance Brennan was not having a good day. First, she slept through her alarm, so she opted to skip breakfast in lieu of a shower, only to discover that the hot water in her building had been shut off for repair.

She locked her keys in her apartment taking out the trash (something she was still having trouble figuring out) so she had to call the super to open her door. Unfortunately, he was busy with the "lack of hot water" complaints, so she resorted to Booth's black ops techniques to bust into her own apartment (that's not illegal right?). She hastily grabbed her keys and dashed out the door.

Ten minutes down the road she realized the vital files she needed for the case she and Booth were working on were sitting on the counter next to where her keys had been residing. Whipping around in a turn she was sure Booth could have pulled her over for, she sped back her apartment and grabbed everything she needed.

Everything, she realized as she pulled into her spot, except an umbrella. She stared out the windshield at the sheets of rain pouring from the sky. _If I were religious at all_, she mused, _this is the part where I curse God._ She eyed the entrance to the Jeffersonian a mere hundred yards away, then back to the sky. Realizing the downpour wasn't going to let up anytime soon, she gathered everything she needed, stuffed the files under her blouse, and made a mad dash for the door.

To her credit, she only slipped once and managed to make it inside just shy of being absolutely soaked to the bone. The air conditioner was working as perfectly as ever in the pristine labs, and Brennan pulled her jacket around her tighter to stave off the cold (and a few lecherous stares).

"Bones, where in God's name have you been? We've tried your cell, your house…didn't you bring an umbrella?" She gathered her resolve and leveled her partner with her most penetrating "don't mess with me right now" glare. Unfortunately (for her and him), he seemed to either not see it or ignore it completely. He stepped forward and, in a gesture she would later deem "absolutely unnecessary" and "a dominant display," he took off his jacket and wrapped it around her, daring to rub his hands up and down her arms briefly.

"You'll freeze to death in here, soaked like that," he said quietly as she shivered involuntarily. She managed to pull the mostly dry files from under her shirt, shooting him a simultaneous glare that told him not to say anything stupid. Thankfully, he got the message this time and just took the files from her wordlessly.

"I'll be in my office, Booth," she told him firmly, then stalked away. Her tone made it all too clear that he shouldn't follow, and he seemed to be paying more heed than earlier. She all but slammed her office door and pulled her blinds closed. Shrugging off his jacket, she pulled spare clothes from a bag under her desk and began changing. Her eyes fell on the discarded jacket every few seconds, recalling how warm it had been from his body and how its scent had made her feel safe and cherished.

"The cold is making me delirious," she reasoned as she pulled her dry shirt on. Chucking the wet ones in an old plastic bag, she plopped down into her desk chair. As she did so, she let out a groan of frustration.

_Great_, she thought bitterly_, now I smell like rainwater._

_

* * *

_Seeley Booth was not having a good day. Rebecca had called just as he'd arrived to work informing him that she was taking him to see her parents this weekend, so he couldn't have him. Knowing there was nothing he could do, he agreed anyway. _So much for our day at the zoo_, he thought cynically. 

He'd had to take the long way to work after hearing a report of a crash on his usual route. Sometimes he wondered what people were thinking when they pulled crazy stunts in their vehicles. He, of course, stayed steady at five over the limit and even braked a little sooner than necessary at a yellow light. Pulling into his spot in the FBI's parking garage, he said a forced hello to the guard on duty, with whom he'd had prior dealings. Of course, anyone who blatantly insulted or disrespected his partner got a sound thrashing, and it seemed the man still remembered their encounter as he just sniffed disdainfully and jerked his head up once.

Cullen had come just shy of ripping him a new one as he reported no new findings on their current case. Sometimes he envied Bones' side of things…less yelling from FBI directors. So he'd driven to the Jeffersonian, both in a ploy to put distance between him and his irate boss and to get more information for said man. As he strolled through the doors he put on a cheery smile for his squints, asking for the latest updates on the case.

But his partner, who was usually in the lab a good hour or more before anyone else, was nowhere to be found. Angela was frantic with worry, claiming Brennan hadn't answered her cell or her house phone. Booth tried both as well, receiving no answer as anticipated.

He heard the rumble of thunder overhead and the constant swishing that heralded a downpour. He thanked God he'd remembered to watch the weather channel this morning and had brought an umbrella with him just in case. However, from the looks of the woman who just strode angrily through the doors, he was the only one.

"Bones, where in God's name have you been? We've tried your cell, your house…didn't you bring an umbrella?" The look on her face would have made a lesser man cringe in fear, but Seeley Booth just took a step closer, noticing now that she was shivering in the chilly air of the lab. Quickly, he shrugged his jacket off and draped it around her shoulders, hoping she was too cold to berate him for it.

"You'll freeze to death in here, soaked like that," he said in a low tone, keeping their conversation private. He felt her trembling from the cold, and he quickly ran his hands up and down her arms to create some heat for her. She pulled something from under her shirt that he quickly identified as their current case files, and this time he obeyed her silent command to stay quiet.

"I'll be in my office, Booth," he heard her say, and he took one step to follow her before realizing she was probably going to change into dry clothes. Instead, he let her go as he quickly thumbed the top file open. As she stalked away from him, he took a deep breath and couldn't help the smile that crossed his face.

_She smells like rain._


End file.
